


It Roughly Translates To I Love You

by ObviouslyOtter



Category: The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Show (TV), The Falcon and the Winter Soldier
Genre: BUT he gets comforted at the end, Denial, I'm not great at tagging, Longing, M/M, Short n sweet, apprehensive about leaving his love's side, very soft hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObviouslyOtter/pseuds/ObviouslyOtter
Summary: Denial exists to Bucky as nothing more than an old friend
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	It Roughly Translates To I Love You

Denial exists to Bucky as nothing more than an old friend. One trapped inside his head, binging around like an old DVD player waiting for the movie to resume. It brings nothing, does nothing but soil his heart. Anxiety and doubt poisoning his consciousness, throwing all sensibility out of the window. Denial existed to bring down the hammer of grief. To kill what was never alive.

There he sat, in the window, watching the rise and fall, the crescendo and decrescendo. Sam slumbered unbothered; blissfully unaware that the man he’d fallen asleep to was now about to climb out of the window without a trace. He could make it in time if he left right now but Bucky felt an indiscernible force keeping him grounded.

_You know where your heart lies_ , a voice whispered to his present, sweet and forgiving like they were still there watching everything unfold.

Funny. Bucky could’ve sworn that the voice sounded like his mother giving one of her signature smiles that were plaintively reserved just for their heart to hearts.

_It shouldn’t though,_ he fought back.

Even funnier, the voice replied, _It does anyway, doesn’t it?_ Like it was the summer of 1932.

Phantom heat came forth washing over him, metamorphosing him, spitting out a version of the ghost that once was. Young, sweaty, and fearful yet liberated in the moment. Visiting Brooklyn to see his aunts and uncles who thought he was an innocent boy. Similar to the way he once stood rigid and paralyzed with fear in his aunt’s kitchen after his mom caught him hugging another boy the way boys don’t. Only then, the clocks at home ticked audibly.

_Tick_

**_Tok_ **

_Tick_

**_Tok_ **

It was too much. How was his mom so calm? So patient?

_Tick_

**_Tok_ **

_Tick_

**_Tok_ **

Bucky tensed at the sensation of water running down his back. No, his face. Actually, his arm. Maybe it was running down his neck only. He wasn’t red in the face because of the question. No. He was red in the face because it was hot. So hot. Too hot. Yeah, it was the heat. But you couldn’t sweat in the eyes-

An abrupt draft hit his back forcing him back to the present.

He blinked once. Twice. Slowly the surroundings became familiar. The TV. The bed. The closet slightly ajar with Sam's wings poking out of it. Himself in the window one leg in, one leg out. Hesitation reclaiming its place. In through his nose, out through his mouth. Bucky closed his eyes and focused on the muscles in his body, working on releasing the tension. The window creaking after he unclenched his hand holding it. Oops.

11:00

For a famed assassin, he was embarrassed to admit that he probably wasn’t as good as people thought. Here he was, unable to leave, unable to think; physically disarmed, and mentally incapacitated solely because a completely safe man, shared his presence. A man who should’ve been nothing but a coworker. A fellow soldier. A good man. Lovable man.

Bucky took in how Sam’s soft breaths made little noises when he exhaled and how his muscles moved when he inhaled. He paid extra close attention to the way Sam’s muscles gleamed and glistened in the moonlight. In truth, his muscles meant nothing to the smile on his face.

_I hope he’s dreaming of me._

Bucky deduced that Sam was asleep for the night and any attempt to wake him would be extraneous. Of course, that was what _Bucky_ concluded. It didn’t help his case that it was all based off of Sam telling him that he hadn’t been able to sleep for the last week, which only led Bucky to the inane thought that maybe it was _he_ who helped Sam fall fast asleep. Had to be. The only thing he had left was the humiliation from being envious of a pillow. Bucky wasn’t allowing that to be a fact. Well, he could be envious of the shot glass that Sam drank from. And the music that caused his hips to sway in such a graceful manner. If Bucky was honest, he could be envious of all the things that made Sam laugh and the people who saw him every day. _Wait. Aren’t some of those jealousy?_

_11:03_

Bucky stood rigid as anxiousness ebbed throughout him. Scary how fantasizing could let the day run away. Not a muscle moved yet he was rendered breathless. Nothing but good vibes from earlier and yet he was an emotional mess. Guilt began to creep up on him. Sam invited him over to have a good time, not fall asleep in his bed.

_He didn’t seem to mind though_ …

Once again the voice was here to reason.

Bucky sighed. Either he was leaving on time or he wasn't but one thing was for sure: he was leaving.

Finally making a decision on whether or whether not he was getting on, Bucky rose from the window sill and closed it. If he had to leave he wouldn't be a sissy about it. He carefully walked over to Sam and covered him up with the blanket. Then he made his way over to the door noting the sticky note with the keys hanging by a tack. It read:

_Hey I really had a great time. Take the car back home I can get it tmr. I care about you enough to NOT want you hurt. (Unlike yourself) Be safe. Tell Alpine I love her._

Bucky smiled as his heart swooned. Carefully, he took the keys off the tack and left through the front door, making sure to lock it after himself.

When he entered the car he noticed his favorite sweater sitting in the passenger seat next to him. _Oh, that's where it went._ He picked it up and was immediately hit with the scent of cologne and on closer inspection, laundry detergent. Like Sam had washed it then wore it again. Bucky carried that air-light feeling with him all the way home.

By the time he got home, it was 11:40. Ten minutes later than what he originally said but the cat-sitter didn’t seem to mind.

“Everything was fine Mr. Barnes. Alpine was as sweet as can be and she even sat on my lap today after we played! I think she’s warming up to me,” she said, clearly tired but maintaining formality anyway.

“I’m glad to hear that Amanda. Thank you again for catsitting, next time I won’t be late I just ended up taking a nap at my friend’s.” He looked down at her bookbag daunting heavily on her arm, making her lean slightly to the side to accommodate the extra weight. He didn’t understand why kids took so many tests and had so much homework these days.

“Oh, no problem at all! I’ll see you next time?” she said heading out the door.

“Yup. And I’m rating you 5 stars.” He felt bad for keeping her so late, maybe he would look into giving her fighting lessons.

“Thank you! For the stars and the extra money. Goodnight, Mr. Barnes.”

“Goodnight. Be safe.” With that he was alone. Well, not alone. Alpine was lying on the armchair but she was asleep so he decided to leave her be. It was late and he was tired.

He went through the motions of getting ready for bed, deciding to forgo the shower opting to take one in the morning.

Finally ready for bed, he glanced at his clock. 12:19. Not bad. He could get some sleep in before then. As he relaxed into the memory foam that held the sins of his secrets, he made a promise to himself.

_Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll tell Sam that I care about him too, that the feeling’s mutual, I just lack nuance._


End file.
